HAPPY NEW.

All the "fuck 2020" talk has got me a little crabby; it's not like everything changes just because the clock strikes twelve. We still have the same creeps, assholes, and wasters following us into 2021. But thanks to a few things that went right last year -- like Black Lives Matter and Blue Georgia and a general understanding that the last four years was not what we want for ourselves or anyone else -- we have a better chance than we've had in a while to kick them to the curb. A friend wrote to me that she thought the Trump fiasco might actually be salutary in the long run: "the openness of his misogyny compared to the comparatively covert previous war on women brought many younger women who felt feminism unnecessary into the fold." She thinks this lesson might also apply to issues of race, water rights, health care and so forth. Maybe it's New Year's talking, but I think she may be right. So let's toast that, and with whatever music or other means bolsters our resolve to make this next whatever better. If that's a champagne toast, so be it. See you on the other side.